What just happened?
Penelope here, checking in after a long absence. Why so long, you ask? (Not that I care whether you really asked or not.) There just hasn’t been enough to kvetch about lately. Oh, there have been the everyday kvetches… You know, my water’s too warm, my food’s too cold, my folks leave me alone from time to time. But nothing major. Until today.
Although nobody tells me anything, I’ve surmised that I was taken to the vet’s office today for surgery. All is well. No surgery needed. But more about that later.
My first inkling that this was no ordinary day came very early in the morning You see, one of my greatest pleasures is rousing my folks out of bed between 5:30 and 6:00 a.m. because I’m hungry. I climb onto Mom and just lie there for a while to see if she’ll stir. If she doesn’t, I’ll try chasing my tail while still on top of her, hoping the movement is annoying enough to get her up. If that too fails, I’ll slyly dig my claw into her leg just a bit. That’s when she throws me off of her. Then I’ll start annoying Dad.
This morning, nothing worked. Nobody got up to feed me. Both of them stayed asleep, or pretended to be asleep. Soon I started on my vocalizations. A loud “Meow” is bound to get somebody up. When they finally did get up (way past my preferred feeding time), they went about their business and got dressed! Still no food.
I resigned myself to temporary starvation, when another affront to my dignity began. Dad was trying to scoop me up. I wasn’t born yesterday. I know that means he’s going to 1) clip my claws, or 2) put me in the cat carrier. No. 1’s not so bad, but 2 is terrifying. I managed to escape several times until he ambushed me. I ran upstairs only to find the doors to all three bedrooms and the bathroom closed. Where’s a frightened cat to go? I was outsmarted and had to allow myself to be zipped into that contraption.
Next thing I know, we’re in a cold car driving down the road.I know that road. It leads to the vet’s office. Bad things can happen there (although the nurses and Doc are very gentle). The only thing that calmed me somewhat was the sound of Mom singing songs to me. She started out with “Soft Kitty” and then, because of the season, moved to “Let It Snow” and “I’ll Be Home for Christmas”
The rest of the day is fuzzy. I was given a shot, and that’s all I recall. But there was some vague inkling of a catheter taped to my leg and a tube in my throat–or did I dream that. Upon awakening, I heard the Doc on the phone with Mom and Dad saying I didn’t need any teeth extracted at all. (Wait! She was going to remove my teeth? Who authorized that?) Just a little minor gum disease, which was treated, and a thorough cleaning. I guess I dodged a bullet, whatever that means.
Now I’m home and, although happy to be here, I feel a bit loopy. I’m staggering. I can’t climb up to the bed to snuggle with Dad, and, although I haven’t eaten a thing since last night, I’m not hungry.
I just remembered something. On the way out of the vet’s office, the nurse was showing Mom and Dad how to brush my teeth at home. If I were fully cognizant, I would have objected. That’s just not gonna happen! Anyone who tries to brush my teeth better beware. I do, in fact, have all my sharp teeth, and I’m not afraid to use them.